


Office Gossip

by helsinkibaby



Series: Dark Horses [5]
Category: West Wing
Genre: F/M, Het, Love Triangles, Romance, trigger warning: mentions of suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-08-11
Updated: 2002-08-11
Packaged: 2018-01-21 23:22:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1567727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helsinkibaby/pseuds/helsinkibaby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gossip…the fastest force in the known universe…</p>
            </blockquote>





	Office Gossip

**Author's Note:**

> {2002}This is for everyone who read Oh What A Night and wanted to know how the heck Toby and Donna got to where they did - and especially for Sunny, who begged very nicely for it!

  
"Carol, are you ok?"

Carol jumped slightly as her thoughts were interrupted by the voice behind her, and she forced a smile to her lips as she turned to her friend. "I'm fine Margaret," she told her, checking to make sure that the photocopier was still spitting out the memo that she'd had to reprint three times before all the typos were eliminated.

"Are you sure?" Margaret wasn't going to be fobbed off with a quick smile and glib answer; the look on her face was proof enough of that. She had a reputation around the West Wing, well deserved Carol knew, as the person who worried if the sun was going to come up in the morning, but Carol also knew that Margaret had the biggest heart in the world, and that she'd do anything for her friends. That's why her next smile was a lot more genuine.

"I really am ok Margaret. Just a little tired, that's all."

She only realised how that remark sounded when she saw the grin light up Margaret's face. "Things are still going well with Sam then?"

Carol had dated men before while working for the Bartlet Administration. She'd even discussed her relationships, in excruciating detail, with Margaret and the other assistants, sometimes alcohol fuelled, sometimes not. But she was reasonably sure that never in her life had one of her friends simply have to mention the name of her boyfriend to have her breaking out in a huge grin.

Well, maybe in high school.

But she was way past high school age, would have said a few short weeks ago that she was beyond all that schoolgirl ditziness, if indeed she'd ever fallen victim to it.

Then Sam Seaborn had struck up a conversation with her at a New Year's Eve party, had gone home with her and sent her flowers the next day, and turned her into a giddy schoolgirl.

And she'd never been happier.

All someone had to do was mention Sam to her and she grinned like that, which was causing her no end of discomfort when talking about serious work related issues. But at moments like this, she didn't worry about things like that, even though she knew Margaret was going to give her hell over it, and she blushed almost in anticipation. "I didn't mean it like that," she protested weakly, and Margaret shook her head and laughed.

"Sure you didn’t, I believe you."

"Sarcasm doesn't become you Margaret, you know that?" The impact of Carol's words was cut down by the smile on her face. "You know how things are coming up to the State of the Union."

"Do I ever." Margaret rolled her eyes. "Between that and the censure, Leo's been burning the midnight oil here…I think he even slept here last night."

"We might as well have," Carol admitted. "We got home at just past midnight. And then of course, Sam got struck by inspiration in the middle of the night." She stopped talking abruptly when Margaret grinned salaciously and waggled her eyebrows. "Margaret!" she gasped, swatting her friend with a folder. "I was talking about the speech!"

"I knew that. Really."

Carol shook her head. "I woke up at four in the morning and found him sitting on the couch, writing about who knows what. And he read me his section about curing cancer."

"I thought they weren't going to do that," Margaret frowned.

"They're not. But he had a thought."

"But if they're not…"

"It's Sam Margaret." Carol fell back on the standard line that CJ, Toby Josh and others had used a hundred times since they'd all started working together, although again, she was sure that none of them had ever said it in quite that tone, with that little smile on their face. At least, she hoped not. "You know what he's like." She leaned over the glass of the copier to copy the next sheet, and when she looked up again, Margaret was shaking her head at her. "What?" she asked.

"You two are the cutest thing, you know that?"

"We are?"

"You're so crazy about him, it's disgusting. In the nicest possible way of course."

Carol nodded, the conversations that she'd had the day before with CJ and the night before with Sam coming back to her. "So you don't have a problem with Sam and me dating?"

"Problem? Why would I have a problem with it?"

"A perception thing I mean," Carol clarified. "You know, Senior Staff member, dating one of the assistants. You're not worried about how the press are going to use it?"

"It's not like you're Sam's assistant," Margaret pointed out reasonably. "You're not in the same chain of command, because you report directly to CJ and him to Toby…you were both single and over the age of consent, so why should anyone have a problem with it?"

Carol was nodding, taking the last of her copying from the machine. "That's what I said." She was talking more to herself than Margaret, but Margaret heard her all the same.

"Carol, did someone say something to you about you and Sam?"

Carol sighed. "CJ talked to me yesterday, on Toby's request. And he talked to Sam."

"And what did they say?"

"According to Toby, it doesn't look good that a member of Senior Staff is dating one of the assistants, not with everything else that's going on around here. Disaster waiting to happen, conflict of interest etc etc…" Carol looked into her friend's wide eyes. "Sam stuck up for us. And I think that CJ kicked his ass on it after talking to me as well."

"Damn straight she should've," Margaret snorted, indignant. "Of all the people to raise an objection… I mean, Toby?"

The image of Toby and Donna, wrapped around each other on New Year's Eve came to Carol's mind. "Yeah," she agreed. "I told CJ that too. But, you don't have a problem with it?"

"With you and Sam? Carol, the only problem the rest of us have is that you're so damn happy it's depressing!"

All Carol could do to that was laugh. "Thanks Margaret," she said, hefting up her pages. "I'd better go and fix these so I can hand them out."

"See you later," Margaret told her, heading off in the opposite direction.

Neither one of them noticed Donna across the way, her face pale, her eyes wide, having heard every word they said.

>*<*>*<

She'd been standing against his door for the last five minutes looking at him, but Sam was caught up in whatever it was he was working on and hadn't moved a muscle. He wasn't even typing, just staring at the computer screen, his lips pursed, his brow furrowed, and Carol could practically hear the wheels turning in his head. When it had become clear to her that he wasn't going to notice her unless she said something, she settled for a simple, "Hey."

He didn't even look from the screen, just mumbled, "Hey." Which was something that Sam had never done to her before, not even when they were just workmates. She wasn't sure what to do, so she stood there a second longer before her voice must have registered with Sam, because she saw him blink suddenly, and turn his head quickly towards her. He took a deep breath then, his shoulders rising and falling with it, and there was a slight smile on his face when he said, "Hey," again.

"Are you ok?" she asked him, crossing the room, sitting down on the chair opposite him. "You looked lost there."

The smile on his face looked bitter, and his pen went up between his lips when he sighed, "I think I am."

"Huh?"

"The economy. Still."

"I thought you were getting somewhere?"

"The economy's going great. The speech still sucks." Carol rolled her eyes at his words. "And I'm making crappy jokes," Sam acknowledged. "This is bad on so many levels."

"It's been a long day Sam," Carol told him gently. "You're tired. We're all tired."

Sam nodded. "What time is it anyway?" He looked at his watch, raising his eyebrows in surprise. "Woah."

"Yes indeed."

"It's late."

"Yes."

Sam was about to say something when the sound of a bouncing ball interspersed with footsteps interrupted them, and both looked over to see Toby standing in the doorway. He didn't look as if he was aware of where he was, or what he was going to say; he was just standing there, leaning against the doorframe, bouncing the ball up and down. "You want something Toby?" Sam asked him.

"I'm out of pie."

Carol and Sam exchanged a glance. "There might be some in the mess," Carol suggested.

"Tried it," Toby replied. The next time he caught the ball, he held on to it, looking up at her, really seeing her for the first time. "Hey Carol."

Carol raised her hands in the universal sign for confusion. "Am I invisible tonight?"

Toby looked past her to Sam, a questioning look on his face, and Sam waved a hand. "You need me?"

"Nah." Toby shook his head. "Just looking for some pie. You two are still here?"

Carol resisted the urge to roll her eyes with difficulty. It was typical of the two of them when it was coming up to the State of the Union to become blind deaf and insensible to everything around them. The fact of the matter was that the bullpen was totally deserted, as was most of the West Wing, with even CJ having told her five minutes ago that it was time to head home. That was when she'd gone to find Sam, knowing that this was where he'd be.

"CJ left a few minutes ago," she told them both. "Most people are already gone."

"Really?" Sam asked.

A slight smile hovered around Toby's face as he looked from Sam to Carol and back again. "That's when you came looking for Sam." It wasn't a question and Carol felt a rush of heat rising up her cheeks.

"I've nearly got the economy finished," Sam told Toby, and was rewarded with a wave of the hand.

"Forget about it for tonight," he said.

"But I nearly have it-"

Once again, Sam's protests were stopped by Toby's words. "Princeton?" he asked. "I think your girlfriend wants you to take her home."

"Oh? Oh." Sam looked to Carol for confirmation, and she nodded. "Oh. OK then. Let's go home."

"Thanks Toby," Carol said, as the older man walked out, muttering something about heading home and finding pie on the way. She turned back to Sam then, chuckling softly as she watched him turn off the computer. "That was unexpected," she said.

"What?"

"Toby. Clueing you in to my plans for the evening."

"You had plans for the evening?" Sam asked, coming around to stand beside her.

While in another time and place, that comment might have had a flirtatious intent, the distracted tone in which he said it left Carol in no doubt that he still wasn't entirely with her; that part of him was still thinking about the economy, and curing cancer and the State of the Union, not to mention the fact that his ex-fiancée was going to start a profile on him in a little over a week. "I’m driving home tonight," she told him firmly.

"OK." He accepted that without protest, and on impulse, she reached out and put her hand on his arm, stilling his progress towards the door. He looked at her then, really looked at her, and she smiled at him, slipping her arms around his waist, resting her head against his shoulder. He hesitated for only an instant before his arms went around her waist as well, and she could feel his breath moving her hair. When she felt him relax against her, she pulled back slightly, resting her hand on his cheek. "Thank you," he whispered.

"My pleasure." Her voice was just as low. "Let's go home."

"You have plans for us?" His voice was hopeful now, his smile almost childlike.

"Right now? Six hours of uninterrupted sleep." Margaret or any of the other assistants would doubtless have rolled their eyes at that, made several suggestions about what they'd be getting up to, and it wasn't sleeping. But all Sam did was nod his head.

"Sounds good to me."

Arms around one another's waists, they walked into the bullpen and out of the door, shouting a goodbye to Toby on their way. If they had turned around, they would have seen him standing at his desk, the same lost expression on his face as had been there when he was in Sam's office, a piece of paper in his hand that he couldn't take his eyes off.

>*<*>*<

She was waiting for him when he got to his apartment, sitting on his stoop, arms wrapped around her knees. It was late enough that there was no-one around, so she looked up when she heard his footsteps echoing down the street, which also meant that it was late enough that he'd normally rail at her for sitting out in the open like that, that anything could happen to attractive young blonde women in a city like this at this hour of the night.

But usually when he delivered that speech to her, she'd stood up at the sound of his footsteps, was standing ready to greet him with a smile. No such smile was forthcoming tonight; in its stead was a look that Toby categorised under the heading "Death by CJ." To see it on Donna's face was disturbing to say the least, but considering the note that he'd received on his desk that day - "Your place. Tonight. D" - he realised that he couldn't have expected anything else.

He didn't say a word to her when he came up the steps, merely nodded in acknowledgement, and held the door open for her, letting her enter the building first. She led the way to his apartment, and once they got in, hung her own coat up on the coat-stand as if she'd been here a thousand times before.

And of course, she had been.

Just not since New Year's Eve.

They'd been avoiding each other as much as possible since that night, knowing that every time someone saw them together, eyebrows were raised, smirks were fought back, and another round of rumours surfaced. He still couldn't quite believe that they'd let themselves get so carried away, blowing their carefully kept secret to kingdom come, all for the sake of one night.

"It was a nice secret while it lasted," she'd told him that morning, and he couldn’t deny that she was right. It had been their secret, and they'd kept it well for over a year, with no-one suspecting that he and Donna were anything more than just colleagues. Not that they were serious, or anything approaching it. He'd known from the first night that nothing like that was in the offing, and she hadn't even had to tell him that because he already knew that she was in love with someone else.

It had been the night of the midterm elections, shortly after the terrible events at Rosslyn. He'd been so caught up that entire summer in fighting the hate groups, doing all he could to get revenge, that he'd been a pretty terrible person to be around. He was drinking too much, working too little on what mattered, snapping at everyone around him. No-one could talk him out of his mood, although plenty of people had tried, and it had been that night, when he asked the President for a leave of absence, that he'd begun to come out of it. When the President had told him that he felt the same way that Toby did, that he knew it was going to get better, that it was time to get up off the mat, that had been the first spark of hope he'd felt since he'd thrown himself to the ground as bullets exploded around him.

He'd known, of course he'd known, that Donna was pulling double, if not triple duty during those same weeks. She was running Josh's office as she always did, acting as a liaison between Josh and the White House, and she was also his sometime care nurse. And she did it all without a word of complaint, tossing off the rules as if nothing was wrong, as if her world hadn't come close to crashing down on top of her. But he knew it had; he'd seen it in her face when he'd been the one to tell her that Josh had been hit. The look on her face was just one of the memories that had plagued his nightmares in the weeks following the attack.

He'd just been so caught up in himself that he'd let himself believe the surface view that she was fine, and it had taken the night of the midterm elections to prove him wrong.

They'd all sat on Josh's stoop, drinking beer, and if anyone thought it was strange that Donna was with them, then no-one had said anything. Sam had told them the results, Toby had made his speech, shorter than his usual election night speech, and they'd all talked and laughed for hours. When the party had broken up, Donna had indicated that her car was in the same direction as his, and gentleman that he was, not to mention that bad things could happen to a young blonde attractive woman in a city like this at that hour of the night, Toby had escorted her.

They exchanged small talk as they walked, and one of the things that he'd mentioned to her was that Josh was looking well, that he was almost back to his old self. And she hadn't said anything, just nodded and kept on walking, and so had he, despite thinking that it was unlike Donna. Then he heard it, the slightest of sniffles. That was when he'd looked at her and seen the tears running down her cheeks.

She was embarrassed, tried to brush them away, but they were coming too fast and she could hardly speak, and the only thing that he could think of to do was the same thing that he'd done that horrible night when he'd seen Ginger in the bullpen, shaking from head to foot. He'd taken her in his arms and held her, and she'd held him tightly to her. He still didn't know how he and Donna had gone from that to kissing each other hungrily, although he does have the distinct recollection that as she pulled back from him, he wiped the tears from her face.

He doesn't know whose idea it was that she should follow him home, that she should stay there that night.

He did know that it was the first time that he'd slept soundly since the shooting.

He did know that it was the first time that he'd felt alive since then.

And she smiled when he said that to her and told him that she felt the same.

They both knew that it was a bad idea that this should be repeated. Under no circumstances should this happen again they agreed.

But when he was depressed over a lame duck congress not being called, and when she was vexed that Josh wasn't taking her concerns about carpal tunnel syndrome seriously, they'd vented to each other and ended up in the same place.

When she was annoyed and upset that Josh had told her that she had no vibe about men and very little sense of self or self worth, and he'd been frustrated over conversations on Air Force One on the way to Portland, she'd gone to his place the night he got home, wearing the famous red dress. And he'd told her that Josh was blind for not noticing her in it, and that he wouldn't have been able to take his eyes off her.

Then he'd helped her out of the dress.

It was later on that night that she admitted that she'd bought the dress for Josh, not for Tod. He'd smiled gently and told her that he knew that. She'd asked him if it bothered him, and he'd shaken his head. A funny smirk had been on her face as she looked up at him and asked him if red turned him on.

An image of a certain redhead had flooded his mind, and he hadn't said anything, but she'd laughed softly and told him that she'd thought so.

Even with this new understanding, things continued in the same vein. As Christmas drew nearer, she told him of her worries about Josh and in the New Year, he detailed his frustration over the leadership breakfast fiasco. They'd laughed over the Karen Cahill situation - well, he'd laughed, she'd smacked him and pouted. They'd celebrated a successful State of the Union address.

And one Friday night when she was getting over being pissed at Josh for having sent flowers to be mean, he'd arrived at her door. She was shocked at first; they never went to her place, it was always his. But her room-mate was out for the night, and he didn't say a word, just clung to her. They didn't even make love that night, he just held on to her tightly and didn't say a word.

He'd known that she was confused, worried, but he also knew that he couldn't tell her. Not until the time was right. He also knew that Josh was going to want to tell her himself, but when he didn't, Toby had called her into his office. And he didn't pull any punches, didn't sugar coat it, because he knew that she'd appreciate that.

He'd known that she'd end up at his place that night, but not even he could have predicted the circumstances, could have known that Josh would get to impart one piece of heart-breaking news that day. He'd arrived home that night to find her huddled on his stoop, arms wrapped around her legs, head resting on her knees, her shoulders wracked with sobs.

And uncharacteristic as it was, he'd sat right down and joined her, knowing that they were crying not only for a woman they loved, but for a President who had lied to the nation, for a mentor who had fallen from his pedestal, and for wanting to be with people who they couldn’t be with.

The six months since then had been mostly snatched hours here and there. Both of them were so busy that they could hardly find the time to go home at all, let alone go home together. Also on their minds had been the knowledge that they needed to be more careful than ever, that their relationship getting out would cause more trouble now than ever.

But on New Year's Eve, all that had gone to hell.

They'd agreed that it should never happen again, but then, they always did.

Until the next time.

Somehow though, this didn't feel like a next time.

And when she turned to him, arms crossed over her chest, still wearing the same angry expression on her face, he knew that it wasn't.

"Is it true?" she demanded.

"Is what true?"

She took a deep breath, pacing around the room. "Did you, or did you not, tell Sam that he and Carol seeing each other could cause a problem? That it was a bad idea?"

Toby sighed, rubbing his hand over his forehead. "Gossip… the fastest force in the universe," he muttered to himself, and she took that as confirmation.

"I can't believe that you of all people would say something like that."

"That's not exactly what I said."

He knew that that was the wrong thing to say when she narrowed her eyes. "What did you say?"

"I said that the press might create a scandal were they to discover that one of the Senior Staff was schtupping one of the assistants."

He'd never believed that honesty was the best policy, but since he didn't know who'd told Donna what, and the woman had a sixth sense that was uncannily accurate about when he was lying to her, he told her the truth. And almost immediately regretted it when her eyes filled with tears and her face paled in anger. She shook her head and set her jaw, making to move past him. "I guess I know where you stand then."

He caught her arm as she went past. "I wasn't talking about us Donna."

"You're on Senior Staff. I'm an assistant. We're schtupping. Occasionally." He'd never heard her sound so bitter. "Tell me Toby, is that better or worse than a committed relationship?"

"You know how Sam is. You know how he can get. I wanted to make him aware-"

"You wanted to make him miserable! You wanted him to stop seeing Carol-"

"I wanted what's best for this administration!"

"And God forbid that anyone's personal life get in the way of the almighty administration! God forbid that two people should fall in love and be happy together in case the press might have a problem with it!" Donna threw her hands up in the air. "Why does everything we do have to depend on the damn press?!"

He'd stopped shouting during that particular tirade, knowing that she wasn't talking about Sam and Carol any more. Knowing, what's more, that she had a point.

"Because that's the way it is." His voice was quiet, resigned, and her lower lip stuck out in a pout as her shoulders slumped, defeated.

"The way it is sucks," she told him.

He sighed, and just like he'd done that first night over a year ago, he took her in his arms. And just like she'd done that first night, she didn't resist. "It certainly does," he told her, rocking her in his arms. "It certainly does."  



End file.
